pat loughery

Jason Francis passed away earlier today. I never did meet Jason, but we had many friends in common, attended sibling churches in the Vineyard movement (Jason was at Seattle Vineyard for years), were similar in age and life stage (he was 37, married with two kids), and everybody that I know who knew Jason loved him and spoke highly of him.

Just three months ago, Jason had a stomachache and when it was diagnosed, he found out that he had an aggressive cancer. Despite treatment, he has left us.

This morning when I learned of his passing, I was praying and reflecting on the difficulty of this transition. A friend of mine wrote me on twitter about Jason, and she said this about him:

Thanks brother. It’s a deep loss b/c he was a man who loved deeply.

At first, I read that differently. I read “he was a man who was loved deeply”, and then I reread it. That description is profound.

He loved deeply.

Jason’s life became a centering point for me today. At first, I thought it would be good for me to try to love deeply today, but that seemed misaligned.

I honestly don’t think that would be the description placed upon me today, but I can’t imagine a better epitaph than this. I want to be known as a man who loved deeply.

So then I thought about this, all day: What would it take for me to become more and more capable of loving deeply? What has to change about my life, my time, my personality, my priorities so that when my time comes, my friends and family will describe me that way?

I have ideas about what this means for me, and no easy changes, but … are you a woman or a man who people will describe in this way? Are you satisfied with that description of your life? If not … what needs to change in order for that to be true about you?

Godspeed, Jason. I hope to say that you’ve taught me well.